


take me with you

by Anonymous



Category: Nine Inch Nails (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Neck Kissing, Possessive Sex, kinda romantic ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-05 21:50:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "you're mine," he murmurs, and she almost falls apart right then.♡Pre-tour shenanigans.





	take me with you

**Author's Note:**

> seems I always delete my smut and have to rewrite it... this time it was an accident. (yes this is the same person who wrote "take me to the end.")
> 
> cheesy title from "the perfect drug"

His flight's tomorrow. The bag is already neatly packed, sat off to the side in the corner, everything arranged and accounted for. 

He should really be going to sleep; he'll be up at the crack of dawn, he and the rest of the band on their way across the pond. 

He's going to be touring with Bowie, for Christ's sake; a whole few months with his childhood hero, performing every night. It would sure as hell be in his best interest to rest up. 

But Trent is still wide awake. Watching her.

She sits at the edge of the bed, the faint, warm light of the lamp playing over her skin. Hair unkempt, face free of makeup, wearing sweats and a ratty old T-shirt that she stole from him when they first moved in together. She sighs, stretching her arms over her head after discarding the book she had been reading on the nightstand.

Then she casts a glare over her shoulder, as if she's known that he was watching her this entire time. He wouldn't put it past her, surely. 

She rolls her eyes, suspicions apparently having been confirmed. "What are you staring at?"

He grins lazily. "You."

"Yeah, well, no shit, Sherlock." She turns around, playing coy even as she slides closer to him. "But why? Clearly, I look horrible..."

"But you don't," he replies quickly. "You're beautiful. Sometimes I can't believe that you're _mine._" 

That last word, however innocently he might have intended it to come across as, is enough to draw her attention. Without warning, she crawls into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Say that again," she urges quietly. 

He just smiles, all fake innocence, though the gleam in his eye seems to know exactly what she wants. He reaches a hand out, gently caresses the side of her face. "You're beautiful..."

Patience already wearing thin, she shakes her head before leaning in, pressing her lips against his. It doesn't take long for that kiss to deepen, going from just lips to tongue, pleasant warmth to near-blistering heat. 

She only pulls away to breathe, but it's clear that that kiss has done enough for the both of them when she shifts slightly, only for him to hiss, drawing in a shallow breath, -- and she can feel exactly why underneath her thigh. 

She pauses, shifting her eyes towards him, questioning without words. 

Still, Trent is the one who actually asks. "Jesus," he breathes. "Do you wanna..."

"Yes," she replies rather quickly, voice sounding a bit more desperate than even she expected it to be. 

"Okay, then."

No sooner after those words pass Trent's lips does she push him down into the mattress, kissing him hard once again. Not very long after she presses her lips to his does she reach for the bottom of his shirt, tugging at it. 

He sits back up for her to lift his shirt over his head, then begins to work at her clothes. He lifts the old tee over her head, leaving her mostly exposed to him. She shivers slightly, though he can't be quite certain if it's from the chill of the room or the soft, insistent kiss that he plants on her neck. 

While she's still on top of him, Trent takes the opportunity to tug down her sweatpants as well, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. He pulls away from her neck for a moment to look her in the eye as his hand slowly slides towards the top of her waistband, a silent request for permission. 

Breath staggering a bit from her excitement already, she nods. 

With that, Trent slides his hand into her panties. Quickly, he finds the bundle of nerves that he's looking for, causing her to gasp. 

He begins to rub slow circles, looking her in the eye all the while. This makes her heartrate pick up in the absolute best way, heat slowly spreading through her as she shivers once again, this time with a quiet moan. 

Of course, he hasn't even begun with her yet. His other hand wanders towards the side of her underwear, slowly climbing inside. Gently, he plunges two fingers inside of her. She gasps, leaning into his shoulder. 

She can only close her eyes and desperately grasp at him as he curls those fingers, pushing, slowly exploring within her as if he hadn't already experienced all of it. As if she were brand new to him, just as beautiful as he had previously claimed. 

His mouth wanders back to hers, leaving them lazily kissing as he works on finding a rhythm between both of his hands. 

He stops when she pulls away from the kiss to cry out, -- a warning sigh, he knows. 

"Oh, -- shit..." she pants. A loose strand of hair falls over her face as her heavily lidded eyes meet with his again, -- suddenly, her very being is all lust and fire. 

"Trent... Come on..." she says. Though his hands have long since moved away from her, she continues to slide nearer to him, -- desperate for any kind of contact at all, it seems. "Need you... I need you _now_." 

Not want, he notes smugly. Need. 

"Hold on," he soothes, pulling away from her slightly. He reaches towards the bedside table, pulling a drawer open to retrieve a foil packet, -- God knows that the last thing he needs to worry about before this tour is having possibly knocked up his girlfriend. 

He rips open the package as she pulls down his boxers, -- something about undressing each other seems just a tad more intimate. All the while, she leans to kiss his neck, -- slow and gentle, but dispersed across his pale skin as if to create new constellations.

Knowing she's getting him back for his own teasing, Trent hurries up and rolls on the condom before pressing his lips against hers again, -- more than hard this time. This kiss is demanding, and neither of them can get enough of it.

She swears she barely notices as they switch roles, -- he rolls on top of her, her on her back, wearing her very last sliver of clothing. Trent reaches down, tugs that last bit of silk down her legs with ease. 

Once the panties are gone, he pulls back, looking down at her with careful concern. "Are you sure--"

"Yes." She gasps out the reply, already reaching her arms around his neck to hold onto him. "Please, Trent... Just..." 

"Shhh." He leans down, kisses her sweetly just beneath her ear as he lowers himself down, weight supported on top of her, lining himself up with her entrance. 

Slowly, he pushes his length into her. The moment seems to be one of gentleness; it's enough for her to believe that they'll take this slow and steady, something overly sweet and overly sentimental to remember all these months he'll be gone. 

They pause; trembling with the anticipation and desire of it all, she wraps her arms tighter around him, a small, shaky moan climbing up her throat, her usual cue before he starts moving again. 

She can't say she expects it when he pulls back, nearly all the way, only to plunge back in, -- quick, hard. She gasps loudly, scratching lightly against his shoulder blade.

"Fuck," Trent curses quietly. He looks down at her, hazy eyes meeting hers. "You good?" he asks. "You don't mind if I make things a bit rough--"

Fervently, she shakes her head. "No," she says. "By all means, do it." 

This brings a devilish grin to Trent's face, -- and, even if it's just for the two of them, there, in that bedroom, the world is suddenly set ablaze.

He snaps his hips forward again, inspiring another moan from her as he lowers his face back to hers, their lips brushing as he speaks.

"What a wonderful thing to know..." Tenderly, he rubs a thumb across her jaw, -- keeping her looking at him, as if she could possibly focus on anything else in this moment. 

His lips purposefully brush hers for a mere second before he pulls back again.

"You're mine," he murmurs, and she almost falls apart right then.

Of course, what he says next doesn't exactly help that dilemma. 

"Let me show you."

All at once, the attention of his mouth is redirected from her lips to her neck, -- almost violently so. Kisses turn into sucking, guaranteed to leave purple marks all over her, -- and then, just barely enough for her to truly feel it, a sweet sharpness, his teeth scrape across her skin.

That doesn't just earn a puny gasp, -- a full on moan escapes from her lips, wanton and desperate.

"I'm leaving my mark on you," Trent growls. "We both know those aren't gonna go away when I'm gone. Even when I'm across the ocean, everybody's gonna know exactly -- who -- you -- belong to." 

"Please," she whispers, voice barely anything but a whimper. 

He rolls his hips again, groans. "You'll be able to see," he continues. "When you look at yourself, you'll see, -- see how I loved you, see the proof..."

To her surprise, she feels one of his hands clumsily come around to brush her own, resting on his back. "Come on," he encourages her, voice growing more desperate. "I don't mind. Put your mark on me, too. It's only fair."

Knowing exactly what he wants, she obliges, digging her nails in, scratching down the delicate curve of his spine, marring luminescent porcelain skin, of only temporarily.

Some sick kind of carry on from home. 

As he hisses from the slight sting, his movements begin to grow clumsy, falling out of time. 

Knowing what this means, she starts to panic, -- there's no way in hell this is going to happen without him getting her off, too. 

"Trent," she mumbles. "Come on. I need..." 

Having been down this road before many a time, -- backstage before shows, mostly, -- Trent slips his hand between them, going back to that rhythm he set when he was between her legs earlier.

Surely enough, this causes the waves to start intensifying inside of her, -- and quick. Gripping onto him tighter, she takes the time to warn Trent.

"I'm gonna..."

"It's okay." His lips return to hers, -- one passionate kiss before it's all over. "Come on..."

Pulling him close to her, she buries her face in his chest and her fingertips into his back, crying out as it all uncoils inside of her, some great and terrible mixture of pure lust and grief. 

He shudders against her, following her down as he always so proudly does. His moan soon turning into a quiet sigh, he remains collapsed on top of her for just a moment before rolling over. 

He gets up just long enough to dispose of the condom and clean himself up a bit.

He figures he won't bother with putting his clothes back on when he returns, seeing as she didn't either.

For now, all he wants is to curl up next to her, spend one of his last foreseeable nights in this house with her.

This thought in mind, he crawls back into the bed with the love of his life, -- her, before the music, before the drugs, before anything, it's her. 

He plants a light kiss against her shoulder, closing his eyes as he pulls the covers over both of them. 

He doesn't expect to feel her shaking with her sobs. 

Concerned, he pulls her into his arms, reaching out to wipe away tears. "Hey, -- what's wrong?" he presses. "I didn't do anything, did I?"

She shakes her head. "I don't -- want -- you... To leave," she gasps, rubbing at red rimmed eyes. "T-take me with you?"

Heart melting and breaking, all at once, all he can do is pull her closer to him. "I love you more than anything," he mutters, knowing it's cold comfort anyway. "Not even an ocean could come between that."

He smiles, somewhat sadly, somewhat smugly, as he holds her close. "We've got the marks to prove it."


End file.
